Life As We Know It
by Izzi Creo
Summary: AU. SM, DL. It wasn't always fun to have a trained investigator for a parent. Then again, being a single parent was no easy feat either…
1. Prologue

**Disclaimer: **The characters of CSI: NY do not belong to me however this story is of my own and should only be used after permission has been asked and given. No copyright infringement intended and no profit is being made.

**Summary: **AU. SM, DL. It wasn't always fun to have a trained investigator for a parent. Then again, being a single parent was no easy feat either…

**Notes:** Notes at the end, read on.

* * *

**Life As We Know It**

March, 2007.

"Daniel Messer, if I have to buy you another pair of glasses then it'll be coming out of your allowance," Stella Bonasera's stern warning drifted from down the hall.

"But it wasn't my fault!" the insistent complaint of the six year old followed. "Toby bet me I couldn't race him through the jungle gym but my glasses fell off and he stamped on them by accident when he jumped down," he explained before hastily adding, "after me, of course."

Mac Taylor rounded the corner and stood in the doorway of the break room, watching the exchange between mother and son. Stella stood with her hands on her hips, her expression showing her irritability whilst Danny sat on a stool, his legs swinging.

Stella sighed and held her hand out. "Let me see them."

Danny obligingly stuffed his hand into his pocket before pulling the small set of spectacles out. The middle was snapped, one half hanging pitifully and there was a large crack in the right lens. Mac heard her mutter in Greek as she inspected the damage.

"It's no good, we'll have to get a new pair," Stella finally said in English. "You're lucky the lens is cracked or else I would have taped them back together and made you wear them. And, seeing as I'm not sure just how bad your eyesight is I'm going to have to insist that you don't watch television until we can get you a new pair."

Danny looked horror struck. "But why?" he demanded.

"Because who knows what kind of damage staring at something and concentrating on it could do your eyesight?" Stella asked sombrely, enjoying her brand of punishment.

Danny opened his mouth to angrily protest before a grin stretched across his face. "I 'spose you're right, but in that case I'd best not do my homework until I gots new glasses either."

Mac entered the break room, chuckling. Stella spluttered indignantly before groaning as she realised she'd been bested by her six year old son. Mac ruffled Danny's hair.

"Gerroff Uncle Mac!" he complained, ducking out from his hand.

Mac retreated to the coffee machine, still chuckling. He poured coffee from the pot into two mugs before also picking out a juice box from the fridge. When he put his mind to it, Mac knew that Danny could be incredibly smart. Even at kindergarten level he was showing signs of a promising future and Mac just hoped he stuck to his studies and didn't end up like his father. Louie Messer was an uneducated schmuck who ran with a bad crowd, as far as Mac was concerned. He'd played the part of a respectable car dealership owner, winning the heart of Stella before turning around and stomping on it. When it had been time for him to step up, he'd turned and ran, uninterested in playing daddy and even Louie's parents had shunned both Danny and Stella, claiming there was no place in their family for an illegitimate lovechild bastard. Stella, alone and afraid, had turned to the only people left in the world for her – the team.

Mac, Hawkes, Aiden, Adam and even Sid had insisted that they'd be the only family she and her son would ever need. As far as Mac knew, they hadn't let either of them down yet.

Mac passed Stella her coffee who smiled gratefully, sipping from it before giving Danny his juice box. Since starting nursery school, Stella had refrained from hiring babysitters and instead Mac had allowed her time off each day to pick her son up from school before bringing him to the lab on the condition that he stayed either in her office or the break room and he completed all of his homework. Stella had been grateful, thanking him profusely, and Danny had even kept up his end of the bargain. Each weekday he stayed within his boundaries unless escorted otherwise and worked on his homework until 6pm when Stella was off the clock and able to take him home.

"So what all important prize did you win that made you climb through the jungle gym and break your glasses?" Mac asked, leaning against the counter as Stella slipped into the stool beside her son.

"I got a kiss off of Cindy Smith, right here," he pronounced proudly as he tapped his puckered lips.

Stella opened her mouth to scold him but was cut off by a voice from the doorway. "Did I just here that right?"

"Oh, hi Aiden," Danny greeted with a shy grin as the Brooklyn detective entered the break room.

"So you've been kissing girls, huh, hot shot?" she teased him.

Danny's grin widened. "Don't worry, you're still my bestest girlfriend, Cindy's just my second bestest."

"Is that right?" Aiden asked with a laugh. She turned to Stella. "You'd better watch this one."

"Don't I know it," Stella replied dryly.

"So what homework have you got for today?" Aiden asked to which Danny grinned at his mother.

"I not gots none."

Mac left them to it, returning to his office with his mug of steaming coffee. He sat at his desk, still smiling at the presence Danny created in his lab. Even at the young age of six he was a person of his own and Mac was sure he'd grow into a good man someday. His eyes drifted to the framed photograph which stood proudly on the corner of his desk.

Encased in the arms of her mother, the young girl beamed at the camera with two missing front teeth. Her dark blonde hair was pulled into a plat and curls inherited from her mom framed her face. Her chocolate eyes were warm, filled with happiness and Mac's heart ached.

9/11 really was the day that changed the world. Prior to the September attacks, he had been a happily married man who worked hard but also loved his wife. When the towers had fell, so had his world. He'd frantically run through the streets, searching every face and looking for a wisp of honeyed curls or beatific smile. His phone had eventually rung and he'd barked into it, receiving news that his wife was in hospital and she was asking for him. He'd thought the worst, wondering whether he was being summoned to say goodbye and when he'd ran through the doors of the hospital it was to be met by a sea of people. The frantic search began again until finally he'd heard the sound he so desperately needed. Claire was stood by the wall, pressing a cold compress to her forehead and staying out of the way of those in desperate need of help. She'd fell against him sobbing as her resolve crumbled and Mac felt his own strong walls crack.

That night they'd comforted each other, but in the morning he found he'd been biding his time after all. Claire was leaving him. She told him she didn't want to, but she had to. She loved him, really she did, and she realised that maybe they'd been given a second chance but it wasn't enough. She couldn't always be the one who stayed behind whilst he worked. She couldn't always be waiting for the phone call that told her their plans were unexpectedly cancelled again. She understood his job, his hard work, his commitment of protecting the city and in no way did she want to take that away from him but she also couldn't live her life waiting for him. Then she'd lightly touched her stomach. They couldn't live their lives waiting for him.

He'd understood, hated it, but understood.

And so he was a phantom in his daughter's life. He sent her money each Christmas and Birthday which Claire probably claimed was from a distant relative and in return he was sent a photograph of his daughter each year. The last had been taken shortly after her sixth birthday and whilst this one stood pride in place for the next year, the other five were being kept safe in a shoebox beneath his bed. She lived with her mother and stepfather in Montana, completely unaware that he existed on the other side of the country.

To her, he was just a steady flow of anonymous money and an annual portrait. But to him, Lindsay Conrad Taylor was his world.

* * *

**Notes:** Okay, so, what do we think? I know, I know, it's incredibly AU but it just wouldn't stop niggling. You see, the basic storyline of characters as children has been in my head for years, back when I was writing in a different fandom but it never seemed to quite fit whereas when the idea returned and I began writing here it seemed to flow better. I'm just gonna say, give it a try and we'll see where it goes.


	2. Chapter One

**Disclaimer: **The characters of CSI: NY do not belong to me however this story is of my own and should only be used after permission has been asked and given. No copyright infringement intended and no profit is being made.

**Summary: **AU. SM, DL. It wasn't always fun to have a trained investigator for a parent. Then again, being a single parent was no easy feat either…

**Notes: **A huge thank you to _rapidtetv, liverpoolss, lily moonlight, Daisyangel, RandomTVFan30, littlewebMesserFamilyFan100_ and _kris is treble_ for the reviews! I hope you enjoy the second chapter.

* * *

**Life As We Know It**

_One Month Later,_

The shrill ring of a cell phone pierced the otherwise silent room. Mac jerked awake, his hand automatically reaching out to switch the bedside lamp on. Blinking blearily in the sudden light, he groped for his phone and answered it as his eyes sought out the clock beside the lamp. 4:00.

"Taylor," he answered groggily having only had a couple of hours sleep.

"Mac Taylor, Detective Taylor?" an unrecognisable voice asked over the line. Mac rubbed the sleep out of his eyes, listening to the booming voice with the distinctively western twang. "Hi there, I'm Barty Young, chief of the Bozeman PD. I'm sorry for ringing so early but I'm afraid there's been an incident."

"What kind of incident?" he asked, fearing a mass murderer from the sticks was heading to New York.

"It's your ex-wife, Claire, she's dead," Barty told him without preamble. "She was working the late shift at the local diner and closing up at 11pm when a man rushed through the door, carrying a shotgun. He forced her to open the cash register and took all the money out before shooting her for good measure. She was pronounced dead at the scene."

Mac bristled at the chief of police's brash attitude but pushed it aside, instead focusing on breathing evenly. Regardless of the circumstances he had cared deeply for his ex-wife.

"First responders on the scene also found your daughter," Barty continued on.

"Wait, what?" Mac cut over him, instantly alert. "Was she hurt too? Is she…?"

"She's fine, she's fine, scared but otherwise fine. Seems she was sat at a booth colouring and waiting for her mom to finish when the man came in. She ducked under the table to hide, best thing she could've done 'cause she went unnoticed. The guy never even realised she was there."

"Did you catch whoever did this?"

"He's still in the wind, unfortunately. But we have a description of him and there's an alert out," Barty explained.

Mac scrubbed a hand down his face. "Where's Lindsay now?"

"She's in the hospital, poor kid's traumatized. We've tried getting hold of her stepdad but he's a Corporal in the army, currently posted in Iraq and not due home for six months," Barty explained. "According to our records she has no other family apart from you. We've arranged for her to be taken into a foster care as soon as she's released from the hospital, unless of course you'd rather take legal custody of her."

Mac hesitated, his thoughts suddenly jumbled. Could he really look after a child, was he ready for that responsibility?

"I don't know if I'm able to," Mac began, "although I've always known about Lindsay I've never met her, Claire made it clear she didn't want me to interfere in her life. I don't even know if Lindsay's knows who I am, let alone if she even has a father aside from her stepdad."

"Well, like I've said, we've arranged a foster home which will be more than willing to take her until Sean gets back from Iraq," Barty said. "But unless your rights to your daughter were either legally taken away from you or you legally relinquished them then you still have jurisdiction over her stepfather."

Mac nodded resolutely to himself. "I'll be on the next flight out."

"Excellent," Barty said and Mac could hear him smile through the phone. They exchanged contact numbers and Mac received addresses for both the hospital and police department before hanging up. He sat there for a moment, suddenly feeling the need to catch his breath. He had a lot to prepare for and not much time to do it. He knew he should move but the urge to pick up the phone and redial a familiar number was too strong. He was unsurprised when the phone cut to voicemail yet relieved that he hadn't woken anyone up.

"Hi Stell, it's me. I just wanted to let you know that there's been an incident. Claire's dead. I'm going to Montana as soon as possible and bringing Lindsay back with me. I'll contact the chief at a more reasonable hour and let him know what's happening. I shouldn't be longer than a few days, but in my absence could you oversee things in the lab? Also, could you make a list of child friendly foods? I'll see you when I get back."

* * *

The paediatrics ward of the Bozeman Deaconess Hospital was coloured neutrally, offering a state of calm to the otherwise frazzled parents as their sick or injured children clung to them. Mac paced the waiting room, his calm dissolving as the minutes trickled past. He'd spoken to a nurse half an hour ago, telling her of his situation before she'd disappeared to find the on-call paediatrician. He dropped into a plastic chair and attempted to sort through his jumbled thoughts.

"Detective Taylor?" a young, female voice asked. A woman in a lab coat was approaching him. She held her hand out, which he shook, before sitting down beside him. "Barty rang ahead to tell me you were on your way. Sorry it's been so long, we had another patient to see to. I'm Dr. Helen Murphy; I've been treating your daughter."

"How is she?" he asked, the question burning through him.

"Physically, Lindsay's is fine. She's a healthy and, as far as I could tell, usually happy child but it's emotionally that I'm afraid of. She's very subdued at the moment, quiet and scared. She's had two panic attacks so far, the first when the paramedics on scene tried to take her from her mother's side and the second when the child psychologist entered her room. We've established that due to the traumatic experience she's suffering from stranger anxiety and, as both the paramedic and psychologist were male, we're led to believe that it's male strangers who trigger the attacks."

"You're saying I can't see her," Mac tiredly filled in.

She tilted her head sympathetically. "I'm saying we have to be cautious. Barty told me the situation and I'm concerned about how she'll cope when meeting you for the first time. After we managed to calm her down, Dr. Crimp – the child psychologist – assessed her and believes she's showing early onset signs of PTSD. However, due to her age it could only be temporary. With your consent, Dr. Crimp and I would like to remain in the room whilst you introduce yourself to Lindsay."

"That's fine," Mac answered immediately. He was now desperate to reach his daughter.

"Very well," Dr. Murphy smiled. "If you'd like to follow me."

She led him down a corridor, away from the waiting room. An ageing doctor was stood outside a room and when they approached he opened the door, allowing them inside before following. Dr. Crimp wordlessly moved to the corner where he began observing, taking the occasional note. Dr. Murphy moved to the foot of the bed and Mac received the first real sight of his daughter.

She was lying in the bed on her side, her large brown eyes haunting as they lazily flicked from one doctor to the other. A stuffed rabbit was tightly tucked beneath one arm and she looked small and fragile in the hospital bed.

"Hi Lindsay," Dr. Murphy began in a gentle soothing tone. "D'you remember me? I'm Dr. Murphy."

The small girl nodded her head slowly, her mouth tightly shut.

"I've got someone here to meet you," she said as she gestured towards Mac. Mac took a cautious step forward as Lindsay's eyes flicked to him. A crease lined her forehead as she frowned at him and her mouth formed a word which he couldn't hear.

"Pardon, Lindsay what did you say?" Dr. Murphy asked, bending down as the little girl whispered the word again. She pulled back, smiling and her eyes cut to Mac. "That's right, Daddy."

"Daddy?" she whispered again and this time Mac heard her. He gave her a smile, his delight and relief overpowering his surprise as he hesitantly reached her bed.

"Hey sweetheart," he said softly. He lowered into the chair by her bedside and reached out slowly to tuck a curl behind her ear. She followed his movements closely. "I know we haven't properly met yet, but I've been waiting for this moment for a long time."

"Did you finish fighting all the bad guys?" she asked. Dr. Harper, seemingly happy with their progress shrank back to stand by Dr. Crimp at the wall. "Mommy gave me a picture and she said that maybe one day, when you'd finished fighting the bad guys, you might come and see me."

Mac smiled. "Is that what she said? Well no, I haven't finished fighting the bad guys yet."

"Are you going to fight the bad guy that hurt my mommy?" Lindsay asked softly.

"No sweetheart, I'm going to leave that to the police here. They're going to find him again and make sure he pays for what he did. I'm going to take you back to New York though and I'll make sure the bad man doesn't hurt you again, okay?"

She nodded, her eyelids tiredly sliding shut and opening again. He gave her a crooked smile, his hand stroking her head tenderly as he told her to sleep.

"You'll still be here when I wake up though, right?"

Mac nodded. "I'll be right here."

"Promise?"

"I promise, now get some sleep."


	3. Chapter Two

**Disclaimer: **The characters of CSI: NY do not belong to me however this story is of my own and should only be used after permission has been asked and given. No copyright infringement intended and no profit is being made.

**Summary: **AU. SM, DL. It wasn't always fun to have a trained investigator for a parent. Then again, being a single parent was no easy feat either…

**Notes:** A mega huge thank you to everyone who left such lovely reviews; _CsiNY326, MesserFamilyFan100, littleweb, Daisyangel, lily moonlight, hope for eternity, kris is treble_ and _afrozenheart412._

* * *

**Life As We Know It**

"Why are we here again?" Danny asked as he and Stella walked up the steps of Mac's brownstone in Manhattan; it was only on rare occasions that Danny had ever been to Mac's home. Stella set the grocery bags down by the door before pulling her spare key out and letting them both in. The place was as immaculate as ever, which Stella found unsurprising yet slightly odd seeing as Mac had left in such a hurry.

"I told you, we need to make sure Mac has food and stuff for when he gets back from his trip," Stella replied as she walked through to the kitchen.

Upon waking that morning she'd listened to Mac's message before returning the call. It had been quick as Mac had been driving to the hospital at the time and although she could hear the worry in Mac's voice for his daughter, she could also detect the smallest amount of joy from the prospect of bringing her to live with him. He'd expressed some concerns and although Stella knew he felt in over his head, she was also confident that he would be an exceptional father. At times he'd been the father figure Danny had so desperately needed over the years.

Danny's whine of her name brought her back to the present. "Sorry sweetie, what did you say?"

"I said does Mac not usually have food then?" he repeated.

Stella laughed. "No, he does have food usually it's just he needs different food this time round."

After work and before picking Danny up from his play date, Stella had stopped by the grocery store to buy the food she usually cooked for Danny. Unable to tell what kinds of food Lindsay may enjoy, she'd picked up some of everything and then made her way to the bathroom and bedroom section.

Danny pushed his new spectacles up his nose. "Why?"

"Do you remember that photo on Mac's desk? The one of the little girl," Stella asked.

"Yeah, it's Mac's daughter," Danny answered with a shrug.

"Well her mommy died so she's coming to live here in New York with Mac," Stella explained.

"So you're getting food for her?" Danny asked and Stella nodded. "Ok. So is she going to be at the lab after school like me?"

"I don't know, maybe. You think you'll be friends with her?"

Danny shrugged carelessly and Stella laughed, ruffling his hair. She helped him sit in a stool at Mac's breakfast table before taking the set homework out of his rucksack and laying it out in front of him. As he started working Stella began to sort through her bags.

"Hey Ma, I reckon Mac'll be a good dad."

Stella smiled fondly at her son. "Me too."

* * *

As Mac stepped over the threshold of his brownstone it was nearing two o'clock in the morning. Lindsay was asleep in his arms, her head resting on his shoulder as he took them through the house. They eventually reached the spare bedroom which stood next to his and Mac pushed through the door, smiling at the transformation. The boxes which had never quite been unpacked and therefore stored in the spare bedroom had been neatly stacked in the corner, awaiting transportation. A nightlight was casting the room in a soft glow and the bed had been remade with purple sheets and cream cushions. A set of pyjamas were even neatly folded on the pillow.

"Thank you, Stella," Mac said quietly with a smile.

He sat Lindsay on the bed, quickly undressing and then redressing her in the pyjamas before settling her under the blankets. She sighed softly in her sleep, snuggling into the bed and Mac lent down to place a kiss on her forehead.

He murmured a soft 'goodnight' before retreating from the room and going to his own bedroom. Sitting on the double bed, he took off his shoes before scrubbing a hand down his face exhaustedly. Once Lindsay was discharged from the hospital he had gone to the local police station and spoken to Office Barty Young in person. The Chief of Police had taken Mac to his office where he'd already gathered as much information on the family as possible including her address, medical records and school reports. He'd then proceeded to fill Mac in on the details of the case before letting him listen to the 911 call. Mac's heart had jumped to his throat as he listening to his six year old daughter tell the operator that her Mommy had been shot by a bad man.

After leaving the police station, he'd driven them both to the ranch Claire and her husband owned. Lindsay had shown him where the spare key in the pot plant was before they'd let themselves in. He'd packed a few essentials for Lindsay, including the stuffed rabbit she'd been clutching since in the hospital, and arranged for her other things to be shipped to his home in Manhattan. Leaving contact information on the side for when Lindsay's stepdad returned from Iraq, he locked the house back up, returned the key and then driven them to the airport.

Lindsay had been staring out of the cab window as it drove through the city, mesmerised. That's when it had hit Mac just how different this new life for her was going to be. She was used to fields and wheat, horseback rides and camping – was it possible for her to adjust to living in the city with a man who was practically a stranger? He'd paid the cab fare and then turned back to Lindsay to find her fast asleep, slumped against the window. Smiling to himself, he'd gathered her into his arms as the cab had remarked that it was one cute kid he had.

Mac's head snapped up and he listened closely. Whimpering. Pulling himself up, he strode out of his bedroom and into the next to find Lindsay sat up in bed, crying. He dropped down on to the edge of the bed as she sobbed.

"I want my Mommy," she managed to choke out before dissolving into sobs again. He wrapped his arms around her, holding her close and wishing beyond anything that he could give Claire to her.

* * *

The bubbles rose into the cup, threatening to spill over before Lindsay pulled her mouth away from the straw. She was sat in the break room, drinking chocolate milk whilst Mac worked in the lab opposite. More than once people in white coats had entered the room, stared at her as they did their business before leaving again. Lindsay had shrunk away from them, wondering if they were doctors like the ones in the hospital.

"Hey, you must be Lindsay," a woman with lots of curly hair said as she walked into the room. She had a bright smile and Lindsay found herself smiling back shyly. This was the first person apart from her daddy to talk to her.

"Hi."

"I'm Stella," she introduced. "You must be pretty bored, huh?" Lindsay shrugged. "I have some crayons and paper in my office if you'd like them. I always keep them here for when my son comes but you can use them, if you like."

Lindsay's face lit up and Stella knew she'd said the right thing. Laughing, she turned to go, "I'll be right back."

As she reached the doorway a small hand slipped into hers. She looked down and Lindsay looked back at her, shyly determined to follow. Stella laughed again before leading her through the lab and into the office. Whilst Stella rooted into her drawer to find Danny's crayons, Lindsay climbed into the chair opposite Stella's desk and let it spin lazily.

"People look at me when they walk past that room," she said quietly.

Stella looked up and across at Lindsay. "Oh. Well that's not very nice is it?" To this Lindsay shook her head. Stella tilted her head to the side, regarding the young girl. "How about you stay in here whilst I finish up some paperwork? That way people won't stare."

Lindsay smiled and nodded enthusiastically. Stella set the paper and crayons down in front of her, happy to see the small child instantly engrossed before returning to her paperwork. They remained that way for a couple of hours until the door flew open and Mac stood there, looking frantic. When his eyes fell on Lindsay he instantly relaxed, releasing a breath.

"I thought I told you to stay in the break room," he said, his relief turning into a scolding. Lindsay shrank into the seat so Stella stepped in, her voice cheery.

"Sorry Mac, my fault completely, I should have told you I was bringing Lindsay in here with me," she said. "Can we talk outside for a second?"

She pushed him back out of the office and shut the door behind her. Mac looked sheepish. "I guess I just panicked when I saw she was missing."

Stella stifled a smile at his overprotectiveness. "I understand. It's the same with Danny; as soon as I lose sight of him I think the worst. Look, she was feeling self-conscious from all the stares from the lab techs which is why I brought her in here. Have you thought about finding a school for her? It may help her to settle in."

"I don't know," Mac admitted. "She's only just moved here, plus she wants her Mom and I don't know if going to school again will cause a bad reaction."

"Mac, you can't keep her from school. Besides being against the law, she needs to be around other children and a routine will help her to move forwards. I'll see if there's any space at Danny's school, that way I can pick them up and they can both come back here each night."

"That'd be good, thanks Stell," he gave her a smile. "Talking of Danny, from what I hear Adam's just brought him in."

"You know, the amount I use that man as a personal babysitter, you really do owe him a raise," Stella joked as she went in search of her son. Mac cast a quick glance at Lindsay to make sure she was occupied before returning to his evidence.

From within the office, Lindsay continued to colour in her drawing of the Montanan ranch she'd lived in and hummed to herself quietly. The door swung open but Lindsay ignored it until an indignant voice broke the quiet.

"Are you using my crayons?"


	4. Chapter Three

**Disclaimer: **The characters of CSI: NY do not belong to me however this story is of my own and should only be used after permission has been asked and given. No copyright infringement intended and no profit is being made.

**Summary: **AU. SM, DL. It wasn't always fun to have a trained investigator for a parent. Then again, being a single parent was no easy feat either…

**Notes:** A big thank you to _D__aisyangel, kris is treble, MesserFamilyFan100, laurzz_ and _afrozenheart412 _for leaving the awesome reviews. You guys rock!

**Life As We Know It**

Aiden Burns flipped her hair over her shoulder, her eyes scanning the document in her hand as she walked through the lab. Rounding the corner she caught sight of Stella's office, inside was Danny and a little girl who, if the lab gossip was anything to go by, was Mac's daughter. The two children were stood facing each other, red in the face as they shouted at each other. Danny stamped his foot, a handful of crayons clutched in one hand and in the other, half a piece of paper. The little girl held the other half of the paper and looked close to tears. Aiden walked towards the office and opened the door.

"…ruined, you boogerhead!"

"Don't call me a boogerhead, you stupid cry baby!" Danny shouted back.

"Danny," Aiden admonished. "What's all this yellin' about?"

Danny angrily brandished his fistful of crayons at her. "Aiden, she was usin' these without askin' permission!"

Lindsay whipped round to Aiden, a tear streaked down her face. "Stella gave 'em to me to use. I didn't steal, I swear I didn't!"

"And she called me a boogerhead," Danny muttered, glaring at Lindsay.

"Well you ruined my picture!"

"It was a stupid picture anyway!" Danny snapped.

Lindsay's lower lip trembled and she clutched her half of the torn picture to her chest. Danny hesitated, realising he'd perhaps gone a step too far. He looked to Aiden for help but she shrugged, letting him know that he was expected to fix it himself. With a sigh, Danny handed Lindsay the half of her picture back.

"Don't cry Lindsay, we can tape it back together," he offered.

She sniffed and shrugged miserably. "No, it's ok, it's ruined now anyway."

Danny scratched the back of his neck uncomfortably. "Sorry for ripping your picture."

"Sorry for calling you a boogerhead."

"Sorry for calling you a cry baby." They shared a grin.

Aiden watched, bemused at the new development.

Danny held out his hand, offering Lindsay the crayons. "I shouldn't'a yelled at ya for usin' them. I knew you didn't thief them, really. We can draw a new picture, if you wanna."

Lindsay climbed back into the desk chair she'd been sitting in prior to Danny's arrival and he shooed her over, also squeezing into the chair. Aiden watched them, thinking it couldn't be comfortable with the arms of the chair digging into them but they didn't seem to care. They pulled a clean sheet of paper towards themselves and began drawing.

"Lindsay, d'you like baseball?" Danny asked.

Lindsay shrugged. "I've never played but my stepdaddy used to watch it sometimes in the TV."

"I play all the time. You should come and watch me, I'm the bestest on the pitch – ain't that right, Aiden?" he said, looking up at their spectator.

"Yeah, you're pretty good, Hot Shot," she agreed.

"Oh wow, I'll definitely come and watch sometime. I'll bring Daddy too," Lindsay promised.

"I'd better get back to work, but no more fightin' you two, 'kay?" Aiden said. They both gave their promise that they wouldn't fight anymore before she left.

Lindsay peered across at what Danny was drawing as the door clicked shut. "What's that?"

"A giraffe," Danny said with a hint of indignation in his voice.

"Oh. I thought it was a dinosaur," she replied.

Danny stared at it hard and then tilted his head to one side. "Yeah, that's what I meant. It's a dinosaur."

"Oh cool!" Lindsay exclaimed. "It's a diplodocus."

"Let's draw lots of dinosaurs, I'll do a T-Rex next and you'll do a… er, a um…" Danny trailed off, trying to recall other dinosaurs.

"A Velociraptor!" Lindsay filled in. "Or a… or a pterodactyl!"

"Wow, you know _everything_ about dinosaurs!"

Lindsay giggled. "My favouritest movie ever is _Jurassic Park._"

There was a knock on the door and Stella stepped in. The two children hadn't apparently heard her as they were still giggling together about the movie. On the way to her office she'd ran into Aiden who'd filled her in about their earlier spat. Stella stood, hands on hips, and waited for Danny to acknowledge her presence so she could tell him off.

"They're not _rhinos_, they're _triceratops!_" giggled Lindsay.

Stella felt herself soften as Danny joined in with the laughter. As he looked up he noticed Stella and grinned at her. "Hey Mom, look what me and Lindsay drawed."

Deciding their conversation could definitely be put on hold, she walked over to where they were sat and peered over their heads at the paper. A childish scrawl which didn't resemble her sons labelled each of the drawings as 'Diplodocuz', 'Trex' and 'Teradactor'. Smiling inwardly at the misspellings, Stella praised them both for their hard work.

"Hey mister," Stella said, lightly tapping her son on the shoulder. "Don't you have homework you ought to be doing?"

"Oh, but _mom_," Danny complained. He gestured to the desk in front of him. "Me and Lindsay are coloring this!"

"You know the rules," Stella insisted, her expression indicating that it would be futile to argue. Danny grumbled as Stella returned to the door and picked up the schoolbag Danny had dumped on the floor during his argument with Lindsay. Stella placed the bag on the table and Danny pulled out his homework, flicking miserably through his textbook. Lindsay looked across at it interestedly. There was a list of addition and subtraction questions, all answering to below twenty.

"Can I help?" Lindsay piped up, looking down at the textbook eagerly.

"Sure," Danny grinned as he pushed his textbook towards her and dropped his pencil down. Catching his mom's eye, he sighed. "But she _wants_ to do it!"

"I do, I want to do it," Lindsay insisted.

Stella sighed. "I know honey, and that's very nice of you but Danny needs to do his own homework. Don't you Danny?" she added sternly.

"I guess," he grumbled.

Stella hesitated. "Well, how about we do it this way, I'll read the questions out and you'll take it in turns to answer?"

Exclaiming excitedly, the children slipped down to the floor and sat cross legged before the seat which Stella took. She picked up the textbook and turned to Danny first. "Ok, seven plus twelve is…?"

Danny screwed up his face, his mouth moving silently as he added them together. "Nine…teen?"

"That's it," Stella beamed. "Next, seventeen minus four is…?"

"Er, thirteen," Lindsay answered promptly.

"Correct, and Danny, eighteen minus thirteen is…?"

"Five!"

And on it went until seven o'clock when Mac knocked on the doorframe of the office. The three occupants looked up and Lindsay leapt to her feet; she ran towards her father and hugged him around the middle. Mac hesitated for a moment but after a reassuring smile and gesture from Stella he wrapped his arms around his daughter.

"Daddy, I drawed a picture of my old house but it got ripped and then I did some coloring with Danny and we drawed dinosaurs and then we help Danny with his homework and did some math," Lindsay explained in a rush.

Mac smiled down at her. "You did all of that and all I got to do was stinky paperwork?"

Lindsay giggled. "It was fun. But we go home now?"

Mac hesitated; he glanced back to his office where a stack of paperwork, albeit a smaller stack than this morning, still stood. He looked back to his daughter's shining face. He knew Stella was watching, regarding him carefully. If he asked, she would willingly take Lindsay home with her for a few hours but something stopped him from asking. He'd chosen between family and work before when he'd been married to Claire and the consequences had been dire. His wife, disappointed with living in such a lonely marriage, had left him and in doing so he'd lost both his wife and child.

Mac hoisted Lindsay up into his arms, resting her on his hip. He smiled at her. "Yes, we're going home now." He looked up at Stella, who beamed at him, and Danny. "And you two should have been off over a half hour ago, too."

"Well Lindsay was doing such a good job of helping Danny with his homework that I didn't want to leave," Stella said with an affectionate smile at Lindsay who buried her head in Mac's neck, grinning.

"Thanks for looking after her Stell, I'll see you tomorrow," he told her.

"No problem, I'll also ask in at the school reception tomorrow to see if there's any space for Lindsay," Stella said.

"I go to school?" Lindsay asked her face bright with excitement.

"Hopefully," Mac nodded. "We're hoping to get you into the school that Danny goes to."

"_My _school?" Danny asked, jumping to his feet. "Come to my school Lindsay and we'll get the same homework and we'll have lunch together and we'll play in the playground during recess."

"Well we'll have to see if there are any spaces yet, but that's hopefully the plan," Stella said with a smile. "Think you'll be able to look after Lindsay if she goes to your school?"

"Oh yeah," Danny nodded vigorously.

Mac chuckled. "We'd better get going."

"Bye bye, Danny." Lindsay waved her hand at him, her head resting on Mac's shoulder. "Bye Stella."

"See ya, Lindsay." Danny returned.

Mac exited the office and walked through the lab amid all the stares and raised eyebrows at the sight of the boss carrying his daughter.

* * *

**Note: **Apologies for the delay, both this and 'The Parent's Apple' have been horribly neglected but this chapter has made me really excited to write more. I hope after such a long break this wasn't too bad and thanks for reading this far.


	5. Chapter Four

**Disclaimer: **The characters of CSI: NY do not belong to me however this story is of my own and should only be used after permission has been asked and given. No copyright infringement intended and no profit is being made.

**Summary: **AU. SM, DL. It wasn't always fun to have a trained investigator for a parent. Then again, being a single parent was no easy feat either…

**Notes:** Thank you reviewers; _hope for eternity, csinylover106, lily moonlight_ and _afrozenheart412._ An especial big thank you to _afrozenheart412_ who's review and ideas gave me new inspiration to right this chapter and many more to come. I hope you all enjoy!

**Life As We Know It**

Mac stared hopelessly at the hair tie sitting innocently in his left palm. After years of military training he'd been able to ensure that Lindsay was awake, washed, breakfasted and dressed within a strict time code which allotted fifteen minutes of relaxation before they had to leave for school.

The previous day Stella had arrived at work to tell him that if he could make a two o'clock appointment at the school then they would have an interview with the Principle to discuss Lindsay's enrolment into the school. Adam had mused to Hawkes that Mac had taken more time off in the past few days than he had in the whole year. The Principle, a kindly woman who hid an ashtray in the top drawer of her desk, had questioned Lindsay and listened intently as she spoke animatedly about living in Montana with her mommy and stepdaddy and then meeting Mac and living in New York. She explained how she enjoyed riding the horses and that in school she liked reading and Math and coloring best. The Principle had delighted Lindsay by picking a book off of her personal shelf and handing it to her.

"_The Story of Doctor Dolittle_," Lindsay read the title aloud.

"Why don't you take this book and sit in one of the squishy chairs outside whilst I have a word with your daddy," Ms. Harrison suggested. Lindsay nodded vigorously before jumping out of her chair and leaving the room, shutting the door behind her.

"She's a very sweet and bright little girl," Ms. Harrison began honestly. "I must admit, Mr. Taylor, that I do have some concerns. It sounds as though Lindsay had had quite the upheaval moving from Montana to New York. When she talked about 'meeting you' I knew that a red flag of sorts was showing."

Mac could tell Ms. Harrison spent the majority of her time speaking to young children. He sighed, knowing where this conversation was heading. He launched into the explanation about the circumstances as Ms. Harrison listened carefully, her brow furrowed and the tips of her fingertips pressed together contemplatively.

"Look," Mac began once he'd finished the explanation, "you've met Lindsay and she's a good kid. This hasn't been easy on her but she's slowly dealing with it and what she needs at the moment is stability in her life which going to school will provide."

"You're the Head of the Crime Lab, that can't be reasonable hours," Ms. Harrison pointed out.

"It's not, but it's manageable. My assistant supervisor has a son who attends here and he's the same age as Lindsay. Since Danny started school Stella has been starting work an hour later so that she may take Danny to school and then when school finishes either she picks him up herself, or if she's unable to leave work, then a trusted employee picks Danny up. The same will happen for Lindsay, I'll take her to school every morning that I can but if I'm needed in work then I'll drop her at Stella's on the way and Stella will take her into school. Then whoever is picking up Danny when school finishes will pick Lindsay up too."

"I must admit, for someone who's suddenly been handed a daughter, you do seem to have this well planned. However it seems that this is causing further upheaval with all the changes of people who may or may not be picking Lindsay up or taking her to school. Perhaps it would be easier to hire a babysitter or nanny to tend to Lindsay whilst you're at work."

"Ms. Harrison, I have a demanding job and if I can then I will rework that job in any way for Lindsay but I refuse to hire someone to look after her all the time so that I know nothing about her. It works for Stella, it might not be easy, but it works and I know that we'll help each other in any way that we can."

Ms. Harrison gave a small smile. "Very well, Lindsay will begin tomorrow. I'll tell the receptionist to approve her transfer. You can tell Lindsay that if she likes the book I gave her then she can keep it until she's finished."

The interview finally concluded, Mac had collected Lindsay and told the delighted youngster that she would be starting school. Now, however, he was facing a crisis. Their relaxation time was now cut down to ten minutes and he was still staring at the hair tie in his palm.

"What am I supposed to be doing with this?"

"Tying up my hair," Lindsay answered slowly and obviously.

"Can you not just wear it down like usual?" Mac asked and Lindsay shrugged.

"I guess."

She picked at the black cardigan sleeve and sighed unhappily. The children at the school she was attending wore uniform and Lindsay had been forced into the girl's uniform which consisted of a white blouse with capped sleeves and a black cross tie, a black cardigan with the school emblem on the left breast, a black pleated skirts that fell below the knee and a pair of highly polished, buckled shoes.

"I look like a dork."

"You don't look like a dork." Mac fought against a smile.

"I didnt have to wear a silly uniform at my old school," she grumbled, pulling at the skirt.

"Well unfortunately this school has a rule about uniforms."

Lindsay fiddled with a strand of her hair. "Last time I didn't wear my hair up to school, my friend Kelly accidentally stuck gum in it and Mommy had to pull it out but it hurt and I cried and then she had to cut it and I cried some more. It was a sad day," she ended on a sigh.

Mac looked hopelessly at the hair tie still in his hand. "I'll try, ok?"

Skipping towards him happily, she turned around and Mac stepped up behind her. He frowed at the hair tie, trying to figure out how to use it. Gathering her hair together, he pulled the fistful through the band and ignored the strands the fell out - figuring he could pick them up later. He pulled her hair towards him and her head jerked backwards.

"Ow!"

"Sorry," he said hastily before gently looping her hair through the band again. He remembered Claire once telling him that she put her hair up to stop it falling into her face and it looked as though he'd done the same thing. Pulling and looping once more, her moved the knot, testing without real conviction whether it was secure.

"All done?" she asked.

"I think so," Mac answered as the doorbell to the brownstone buzzed.

"I'll get it!"

Lindsay ran out of her bedroom, down the stairs and to the front door which she threw open. Stella stepped in, smiling.

"Hey kiddo, you ready for your first day of school?"

"Sure!"

"Lindsay, what's happened to your hair?" she asked, stifling a grin.

"Daddy did it but I don't think he did it right 'cause this bit keeps flopping in my face." Lindsay blew at the flyaway hair before it dropped in front of her eyes again. Mac came down the stairs and Stella grinned, shaking her head. He shrugged and his expression was exasperated. Her grin turned sympathetic as she realised how difficult it was for him to cope with a six year old child, who was a girl, no less.

"Would you like me to do it for you?"

"Yes please, but don't pull 'cause Daddy did and it hurted," Lindsay requested.

"I swear you won't feel a thing," Stella promised. She looked to Mac who was about to disappear into the kitchen to retrieve Lindsay's lunch box. "Oh no you don't, come back here and learn how a pro does it."

Stella carefully disentangled Lindsay's hair from the tie before redoing it, showing Mac as she went. She pushed the band on to her wrist and raked her fingers through Lindsay's hair before gathering it into her right hand. Pulling the band far enough for the hair to be pulled through the tie, she crossed it and pulled back the other way, each time ensuring all the hair passed through the band. When she was finished she gave the top of the ponytail a tug to make sure it stayed tight.

"See, it's easy when you know how," Stella told Mac with a victorious smirk. He chuckled as Lindsay skipped off to grab her lunch from the kitchen.

"Are you going to teach me a new hairstyle each day?" he teased. "Apparently the last time she wore her hair down a friend put gum in it but surely that was just a one off?"

Stella wrapped an arm around his shoulders and gave him a squeeze. "She's going into an environment where there are finger paints and play doh and glue and glitter. Believe me, that wasn't a one off and I can assure you that you'd rather be worrying about getting stains out of her uniform that chunks of dried materials out of her hair."

"Point taken," Mac nodded seriously.

Lindsay skipped back out of the kitchen to them, clutching her lunchbox in one hand and taking Mac's hand in her other.

"We ready to go?" she asked eagerly. As they stepped out of the brownstone, pausing on the top step for Mac to lock the door behind them, Lindsay turned to Stella. "Stella, please tell Daddy that I look like a dork."

Stella laughed. "You don't look like a dork, sweetie. You look just like all the other boys and girls."

"But Danny doesn't have to wear uniform like this, I see'd him after he been to school."

"Well that's because when Danny gets to the lab afterschool the first thing he does is go and change into regular clothes but he does wear a uniform, it's just left in his rucksack once he's changed," Stella explained.

"Oh no, I don't have other clothes," Lindsay worried but the two adults were quick to assure her that it didn't matter for today. They reached the black SUV and Stella opened the back door, helping Lindsay into the car where she'd fitted a spare booster seat. Upon seeing Danny, Lindsay exclaimed excitedly, "Oh Danny, you look like a dork too!"

"Oh, thanks, I guess."

* * *

As the bell signalling recess finally sounded, Danny let out a breath of relief. He ran to his personal cubby and put his books away before racing back to the door where their teacher was lining them up. To his great dismay, Lindsay had been put into a different class and he was desperate to see her in case she hadn't enjoyed school. Running out into the playground with the rest of his classmates, he stood for a moment and looked around for the familiar little girl. He eventually spotted her playing on the hopscotch and ran over.

"Lindsay, Lindsay hi. How did it go? Was the lessons good? Did you miss me? Did you make friends? Do you like the kids? Do they like you?" he asked in a rush.

Lindsay giggled. "That's too many questions Danny, you make my head hurted!"

"Sorry. How was school?" he rephrased.

"It was good. I sit next to Jilly and we gots to read a book about a mole," she told him.

"Oh. So you didn't miss me then?"

"A'course I did! Wanna play?" she asked.

"I'm not doing the hopscotch." He folded his arms to show his insistence.

"That's ok, we play something else." She suddenly grabbed his hand and pulled him in the other direction, running fact. Danny stumbled behind her, looking over his shoulder to see what they were running from. "C'mon Danny, quick! The alien spaceship is in the sky and it's looking for humans to beam up!"

"Oh, I see! We'll have to start a war between the humans and the aliens!" he stated, catching onto the game excitedly.

"Yeah! We'll have to find a way to destroy them though."

"Maybe we can throw salt on them like you do to slugs."

"Ew," Lindsay giggled.

* * *

"She'll be fine, Mac."

Mac looked up, startled by the voice breaking through his thoughts. He'd been silent whilst he and Stella processed the scene of a murdered shopkeeper and he realised that his partner had been observing him, reading his thoughts well. He smiled guiltily. "I'm just hoping she's enjoying herself."

"She's on recess, she'll be having the time of her life," Stella assured him and Mac chuckled.

"I take it recess is the best part of Danny's day?"

"When he tells me about his school day it's as though nothing but recess matters," Stella confirmed.

"Do you think they'll still be friends, even though they're not in the same class?" Mac asked.

"I should think so; they'll be spending every school evening together in the lab so I doubt they'll hardly know each other."

Mac nodded. "Good point."

"I'm hoping Lindsay will be the good influence Danny needs," Stella admitted, though she smiled as she said it.

"Influenced or not, Danny will always be a good kid." The conviction in Mac's voice led Stella to believe that he was assuring her that not only had she raised a good child but also that he wasn't going to turn into his father.


	6. Chapter Five

**Disclaimer: **The characters of CSI: NY do not belong to me however this story is of my own and should only be used after permission has been asked and given. No copyright infringement intended and no profit is being made.

**Summary: **AU. SM, DL. It wasn't always fun to have a trained investigator for a parent. Then again, being a single parent was no easy feat either…

**Notes:** I really am ashamed to say that this has been grossly neglected for the past few months. I hope there's still some readers out there keen on this story because I've finally finished figuring out where I want this story to go and mapping out a whole plan which I'm pretty happy with. There'll be ups and downs, highs and lows which I'm hoping you'll all enjoy reading.

A big thank you has to go out to **lily moonlight** who gave me the much needed nudge to dig out this story again and finish the chapter – which turned monstrous, by the way. It's something like 9 pages on word! Without this gal, you guys may ahve been waiting even longer for me to get my butt into gear so thanks Lily!

Also, thank you to the reviewers of the last chapter, _lily moonlight, hope for eternity, Guest, MesserFamilyFan100, liverpoolss, SMACkedHuddy _and_ dannylover._

* * *

**Life As We Know It**

Stella walked through the halls of the lab, an open case file in front of her as she scanned the contents and made her way to her office. Passing one of the labs, a frustrated curse caused her to stop and peer in through the doorway. Mac was stood at a computer, his head bent in defeat as the ominous NO MATCH sign glared back at him. The Grecian woman closed the file before entering the lab, noting that most of the lab techs had retreated to work elsewhere whilst their boss was in such a volatile mood.

"Mac?" her confusion was apparent; the team were working on a bank robbery case and although they couldn't find their two perps, the male and female duo had been identified hours earlier. Either Mac suspected a third criminal was involved or he was working on something else entirely. The Head of the Crime Lab looked up as Stella approached and she could see the strain stretched across his face.

"What're you working on?" she asked.

He scrubbed a hand down the lower half of his face. Mac closed the database down and clicked into another file, pulling up the E-FIT he'd been trying to identify. "This is the man that killed Claire." Stella tilted her head sympathetically. "Lindsay's been having nightmares so I asked her to describe Claire's murderer last night and then used the information to create this E-FIT. I know it's a long shot but I sent it over to the Bozeman PD this morning, their equipment is pretty basic and out of date though. I've tried running it through our system but nothing's coming up. I've even tried expanding the search but…" he trailed off with a weary sigh.

Stella rested a hand between his shoulder blades, noting how tense the muscles beneath his shirt were. "Perhaps you should think about Lindsay talking to a counsellor?" she gently suggested.

Mac looked up into his friend's face. "I thought about it but… at the moment it's my last resort. You know Lindsay, she's a great kid and I don't want to put her through something as gruelling as counselling when the majority of the time she's so happy and centred."

A red-haired lab tech entered the room and the two senior CSI's vacated, moving to Mac's office where their conversation could be private. "I know that the nightmares are upsetting but it could just be a phase… I don't want to force her into therapy. You know that it can be like a scab that keeps being picked each week with no chance of healing."

Stella nodded, knowing that feeling only too well. "I suppose for now you could see how things go. But if it gets worse, Lindsay really will need professional help."

Mac pressed his thumb and forefinger into the corners of his eyes, rubbing the bridge of his nose. "Some of Lindsay's things that I shipped from Montana are due to arrive Friday so maybe she'll settle down at night if she's surrounded by her familiar belongings. I was thinking of using the weekend to redecorate but I could really use a feminine touch…"

He let the request trail off and Stella smiled. "Ask no more; Flack was planning on taking Danny out on Saturday so I'll ask him to take Lindsay, too. If I go to yours after your early shift starts then we should be finished by the time they get back and it'll be a nice surprise for Lindsay to come home to."

Mac gave the first genuine smile Stella had seen all day. Although he'd never admit it aloud, he was glad that Stella seemed to have taken a shine to Lindsay and that the feelings were mutual. He'd always do his best as a single parent but he knew that the six year old needed a female presence in her life, especially as she grew older. If Mac was honest, he didn't think Lindsay could get anyone better than Stella Bonasera.

"I really appreciate this, Stel." His desk phone rang, effectively cutting off the conversation.

"I'll let Flack know he's also looking after Lindsay on Saturday then," she finished. Mac answered the phone and as Stella turned to leave the office, she noticed a new file resting on the corner of his desk. The edges were less dog-eared and the file was of a lighter colour than the older ones. Stella had the suspicion that if she opened it and flicked through the contents, she'd eventually find the photograph of a familiar six year old staring back at her.

* * *

"Who is Flat?" Lindsay asked as she stepped into her sneakers.

"Flack," Mac gently corrected, "is a friend of mind and Stella's. He works as a Detective in the precinct, rather than at the lab." Mac bent down and quickly tied her shoelaces.

"He has a funny name."

"That's only his last name, like how your last name is Conrad-Taylor. His first name is Don," Mac explained.

"Why d'you call him by his last name?" she asked.

"You are inquisitive today," he said, tweaking her nose.

"What that mean?"

"It means you're asking a lot of questions," Mac answered with a smile. "And we call him Flack because a lot of cops are referred to by their last name."

"Oh." Her thumb crept into her mouth, an indicator he'd learnt meant she was tired, and he gently tugged it out. "What you doing today?"

"I have to work today," he told her, curbing his plans for the afternoon.

"I see you later in the lab?" she asked.

"No, by the time you come home I'll be back from work," he explained. The doorbell rang and she ran to it, hopping from foot to foot as she waited for Mac to answer the door. She was enthusiastic about spending the day with Danny and even interested in meeting her daddy and Stella's friend. Mac opened the door and Don greeted them warmly whilst Lindsay lingered by her father's legs, clutching fistfuls of his slacks and peering past him at the tall, dark haired Detective.

Don crouched down so he was eyelevel with the small six year old and gave her a warm smile. He'd been pre-warned by Mac that Lindsay suffered from stranger anxiety and it was triggered by unfamiliar men.

"Hey Lindsay, it's nice to finally meet you. I'm Don Flack."

"Hi," she answered shyly.

"Wanna come spend the day with me and Danny?" he asked gently.

She gave a small nod. "Um, ok, please."

Don straightened up and addressed Mac. "We'll be back long before its dark," he promised.

Mac gave a firm nod before looking down at his daughter. Lindsay's grip on his pants leg had slackened so he took her wrist and gently pulled her away, pushing the young girl towards Don. The Detective was pleasantly surprised when she slipped her hand into his. Her expression was full of curiosity and trust.

Mac crouched down. "Be good for Flack, ok?"

"I will," she promised. "Bye Daddy, I'll see you later. Love you."

Don grinned as he watched Mac's usually stoic face give the hint of a smile. He gave a final goodbye before leading Lindsay out of the house and towards the car he'd borrowed from Stella. Danny was waiting, already strapped into his car seat and listening to Don's iPod. He was wearing a backwards baseball cap and nodding along to the music. When he saw Lindsay approaching, he pulled the ear buds out and gave her a huge grin, waving enthusiastically. Lindsay smiled back, easing into a more relaxed state and Don smiled as he watched the two youngsters.

* * *

"Will se make it? She's rotatin' mid-air and bam! Lindsay Conrad-Taylor makes the slam dunk of the millennia!"

Lindsay let out a shrieking giggle as Don held her beneath the armpits and hoisted her into the air so she could sink the ball into the basketball hoop once again. They'd picked a relatively quiet court and had been playing for the past few hours with Don aiding each of the children as they made their shots. As the ball slipped through the net, hit the ground and rolled away, Don threw Lindsay on to his shoulders and pranced around with her.

"And the crowd goes wild! Lightening Lindsay, the newest kid on the block! They'll be talking about this basketball star for years to come; the very best friend of other basketball sensation, Dynamite Danny!"

Danny jigged around his feet, cheering and pumping the air with his fist. Don lifted Lindsay over his head and lowered her to the ground where she immediately joined in with Danny as they danced around the Detective victoriously. Don laughed before fixing Danny's glasses which were askew. He ruffled the youngster's hair.

"Who's hungry?" His response was a collection of 'me, me, me!'. "Well in that case, what d'you say to gettin' some lunch at Ma's?"

Danny whooped and hollered. "You'll love it at Ma Flack's Lindsay, she maked good food and then we play and play and then she'll probably give us cookies 'cause she's nice like that."

Don chuckled as he listened to Danny's explanation; there was no doubt that Danny definitely had Italian blood in him – even if that side of the family didn't want anything to do with him. Whenever Don looked after the youngster, he usually took Danny to his Ma's because she fussed over him, chuckling at his cheekiness and claiming he reminded her of her son at that age.

The trio traipsed off of the basketball court, Don feeling as though he'd had more of a workout running after the two children than he'd ever had when playing a full game, and returned to the car. Buckling them both into the car seats, Don got into the front and drove them to his parent's house whilst they each shared an ear bud of his iPod and listened to music.

"You ever shoot hoops a'fore, Lindsay?" Danny asked.

"No. My brothers used to play though and I'd watch but they always said I was too little. I like it better playing Flack's way though."

"I didn't know you had brothers," Danny announced in astonishment. "They gonna come live with you and Mac?"

"No, they're not really my brothers; they're my step-brothers. Sean's their daddy but they live with their mommy in Helena and we lived in Bozeman and sometimes they come visit for holidays."

"Like Christmas?"

"And summer 'cation."

"Will they come to New York this summer?" he asked.

Lindsay shrugged. "Dunno. Maybe they'll be seeing Sean."

"Oh." They listened to the music in silence for a moment. "So… you got two Dad's?" he asked slowly and Lindsay nodded. "You're lucky; I not got any."

"Did he die like my mommy?" she asked, innocently.

Danny shrugged. "Dunno. I never seen him a'fore and ma don't talk abou' him."

Lindsay reached over and took his hand in hers. "You can share my daddy if you wanna."

"Ok, but you gotta share my mommy too." From the front of the car, Don let out a chuckle. Danny looked up and saw Don smiling through the rear-view mirror. "What? What so funny?"

"Nothin'," he grinned. "I can just see you two in a few years' time sayin' 'brother from another mother' and 'sister from another mister' and alla that."

Danny looked across at Lindsay who shrugged. He gave a long suffering sigh. "He's lost it."

"Mm-hm."

Their journey continued in uneventful silence as they crossed beneath the river in the Queens Midtown Tunnel, emerging again in Long Island City. Don drove them into the heart of Queens to his childhood home where his parents still lived. Despite the extra four bedrooms which now collected dust as their children had all left home, Moira and Donald Flack Sr. happily occupied the once thriving home and often welcomed their children and grandchildren.

Don parked outside his parent's house before getting himself and the children out of the car. Danny jogged ahead, stopping to inspect various things in the garden whilst Lindsay lingered around Don's legs. He took her hand, hoping to comfort the young child and when she didn't pull away he knew he'd made the right choice. They bypassed the front door and instead walked around the side of the house until they got to the thrown open kitchen door. Danny ran straight into the kitchen and excited peals of 'Oh my Gracious, look who it is!' filtered through the door as Don and Lindsay stepped in behind him.

Moira patted Danny's cheek, fussing about how tall he'd gotten since the last time she'd seen him. She asked him questions about school and he proudly answered, telling her how well he was doing in all of his subjects. When she asked him whether he'd been fighting, her replied very solemnly that he had but it had only been the once and the boy was bullying another boy. Moira clutched at her heart and offered him a cookie whilst trying to pretend that it wasn't a reward. Danny happily accepted the sweet treat before Moira turned to her son.

The questions were much the same however there seemed to be more complaints about his weight, pallor and tiredness. Don shrugged it off, pulling his Ma into a one-armed hug. She pinched at his cheeks and asked him how work was going and whether he'd been keeping himself safe whilst out on the streets which he'd rolled his eyes at and promised that he was. He took a cookie without her offering and she hit him upside the head.

"You were gonna gimme one anyway," he mumbled around a mouthful of her home baking.

"You'll never get a girl with those manners," she scolded. She turned to pick up another cookie sheet, fresh out of the oven, with the intention of sweeping them on to the fast disappearing plate when she noticed Lindsay hovering by the door.

"And whose this little darlin'?" she asked gently.

"Oh yeah." Danny jumped down from the kitchen stool he'd previously climbed up into and wiped the crumbs off his mouth with the back of his hand. "This is Lindsay. She's new 'round here. She comes from someplace in the West where they got horses but she come to live with Mac now cause he's her dad and she goes to my school. We're in the same year but not the same class."

Moira turned to her son with a raised eyebrow and he nodded. "She's been here a week or so living with Mac. Her Mom was…" he trailed off and inclined his head, the general signal in the Flack family for 'killed' whenever children were around – which was often. "So Mac brought her hear to live."

The Irish woman picked the plate of cookies up before turning to Lindsay and half-bending. She held the plate towards the small girl. "Would you like a cookie, Lindsay?"

"Yes, please." Lindsay took a cookie from the plate. "Thank you."

"You're very welcome." She turned back to her son. "She's six and she has better manners than you." She returned to look back at Lindsay who giggled and the elder woman gave her a fond smile and wink. "My name's Moira but pretty much everyone calls me Ma Flack. Would you like some milk to go with your cookie?"

Lindsay nodded, the smile lighting up her face.

"Can I have some milk too?" Danny asked before hastily adding, "Please, Ma Flack."

Moira laughed aloud before agreeing to bring them both milk if they'd sit at the table to drink it. The two youngsters did as told, climbing into the stools opposite Don whilst his mother readied their drinks. She brought the two glasses of milk over and the children immediately began dipping the cookies into the milk before biting into them.

Lindsay made an appreciate noise. "This is real good, Ma Flack."

"An old family recipe, maybe when you're older I'll let you in on the top secret but you'll have to promise to never tell anyone else."

Lindsay eyes were wide and she became breathless. "I promise."

"Hey, what about me?" Danny asked.

"You?" Moira laughed. "You're a blabber-mouth, Daniel Bonasera-Messer!"

Danny gave her a grin, accompanied with a milk moustache and everyone around the table laughed before he wiped it away. "That ok, Lindsay can make the cookies and I can eat them."

Moira gave another full laugh. "Every time I see you, you remind me more and more of Donnie."

"No, I'm D-_aaaa-_nny," he corrected slowly and she chuckled, shaking her head. The children finished their cookies and slowly drank their milk whilst Moira went to the other room, returning minutes later with a battered mousetrap box that the family had owned and played with for years.

She rattled the box for effect. "D'you kids want to play?"

"Will you play too?" Lindsay asked and Moira gave her a warm smile full of affection.

"If you two don't mind an old-timer like me playin' then sure, Don'll join in too," she added, ensuring that her son didn't disappear to watch sportscentre. She set the game up with the children occasionally helping and they spend the rest of the fun-filled afternoon competitively playing with a break for lunch.

When it was time to go, after each winning a handful of times, Moira gave the children a final cooking for the ride home and kissed them each in turn. She made Danny promise to be good and Lindsay swear to keep an eye on him.

"Now," Moira finished, pulling Lindsay's ponytail taut. "You can come back anytime you like, Lindsay. I'd be more than happy to have you around again and," she lowered her voice conspiratorially, "if you really want to, then you can bring these smelly boys with you too. Got it?"

Lindsay nodded, her hair bobbing. "Got it, Ma Flack. Thanks for having me and thanks for all the cookies and all the fun."

She followed Danny out of the kitchen and into the garden whilst Moira kissed Don's cheek, and invited him to Sunday dinner the following day so he could see his family. She also called after him to drag his youngest sister along, if he could find her, because Lord knows; she never tells her parent's what she was up to. He laughed and promised his mother to try before following the children.

* * *

"D'you think she'll like it?" Mac asked, stepping back to admire the hard work he and Stella had put into Lindsay's bedroom. When they'd shifted through Lindsay's belongings, they'd found that she had an assortment of various valuables which all seemed to contradict each other; there were horses and video games, princesses and comic books, dolls and football memorabilia. Deciding that Lindsay was a versatile character, they set to work in decorating her room by first painting it a soft yellow and then moving in all of her personal items.

Her princess duvet covered the bed with a 49ers blanket folded on the bottom, framed photographs of horses lined the walls and on the shelves stood dolls beside a stack of comic books and video games. A toy trunk full of dress-up costumes stood in the corner and beside it a chest full of various toys from Barbie's to race cars to action heroes to baby dolls. A second shelf was filled with children's books, some old and some new which Stella had suggested Mac read to Lindsay for a bedtime story. Sitting on the bed was the rabbit that Mac had first seen Lindsay clutching whilst in the hospital and had come to learn was a present from birth. The final touch, they both felt, was to place a framed photograph of Lindsay and Claire on the bedside table.

They'd left the window open, hoping the paint fumes would ease by bed time. Stella stepped back to join Mac in the doorway and looked in at the room. She gave a happy nod. "I think she'll love it."

She turned to Mac and he chuckled, pressing a finger to the bridge of her nose. "You have paint right there."

"Oh yeah, well you're not so paint free yourself," she told him. He frowned and felt around on his face, trying to find where the paint was; unaware that he had wet paint on his hands. Stella raised a hand to her mouth, stifling a laugh as she watched him place yellow prints over the right side of his face.

"What?" he asked as he pulled his hand away. Looking at his fingers, he realised his mistake and released a laugh of his own. "How ridiculous do I look?"

"Actually, not very much. I think you look like a dad who's about to make his little girl very happy," she told him. From his face she knew how much he appreciated the comment.

They heard the front door downstairs open and a small voice call, "Daddy?" followed by "Mac…? Stel…?" and "Ma, you here?". The two CSI's walked to the top of the staircase to greet their children and Don.

"Hey guys, did you have a good time today?" Both kids excitedly began to explain, talking over each other so that neither parent could make out their words. Mac turned to Stella and shrugged. "I'll take that as a yes." Turning back to the children he called, "come up here, we've got something to show you."

Both children, followed by Don, ran up the stairs to their respective parents who led them down the hall. They stopped outside Lindsay's bedroom, the door closed so that she couldn't peek in. Mac addressed Lindsay, "we've got something to show you; we've been working on it today because I wanted you to know, Lindsay, that you're a welcome and valued person in this house."

Stella frowned at him, thinking that perhaps he could have explained it in simpler terms for the six year old but Lindsay nodded nonetheless as though she understood – or at least pretended to. Mac pushed open the bedroom door and allowed Lindsay and Danny into the room, the former gasping in surprise at the changes. She looked all around her, taking everything in before turning and running back into Mac's arms.

"Thanks, Daddy."

She turned and hugged Stella around the waist too. "Thanks, Stella. It's wonderful. Just like my room back in Montana."

"You're welcome, kiddo. Now you'll be able to have friends around to play."

"Could Danny come round?" Lindsay asked, looking up into Stella's face with wide, pleading eyes.

"Of course he could, we'll arrange a play date sometime," she promised. Lindsay gave her a final hug before breaking free and running back into her room to join Danny who was admiring her collection of comic books.

Don, who'd remained in the background, joined the two adults as they watched the children interact with each other. "Good job, guys. Fancy decoratin' my apartment?"

Stella laughed, turning to flick at his nose. "No chance."

Mac grinned and Stella turned to give him a wink whilst Don shrugged, completely unaware that a yellow stripe of paint now lined his nose.


	7. Chapter Six

**Disclaimer: **The characters of CSI: NY do not belong to me however this story is of my own and should only be used after permission has been asked and given. No copyright infringement intended and no profit is being made.

**Summary: **AU. SM, DL. It wasn't always fun to have a trained investigator for a parent. Then again, being a single parent was no easy feat either…

**Notes:** Thank you _lily moonlight, liverpoolss_ and _MesserFamilyFan100_ for reviewing the last chapter! I've proof read this but there may be some mistakes, at the moment I really am too cold to function properly. Commence shutting down mode.

**Life As We Know It**

Mac readjusted the baseball cap on his head, checking in the downstairs hall mirror to ensure he didn't look too ridiculous. It was Saturday and he'd promised Lindsay that they could watch Danny's Little League team play baseball against another neighbouring team. The children had talked of nothing else for two weeks, excited about the upcoming match as Lindsay praised Danny and he swore to hit a home run.

"Lindsay, are you ready? We'll need to leave soon," he called up the stairs. Mac waited at the bottom of the staircase, one foot on the bottom step, frowning as he listened hard for her reply. When none came, he slowly walked up the stairs, concerned by her uncharacteristic silence this morning. Reaching her bedroom, he looked in to find it empty so proceeded to the bathroom, spare bedroom and finally his room. He found Lindsay sat on the floor beside his bed, cross legged with a box open beside her and photos scattered on the floor.

"What are you doing in here?" he demanded, his tone sharper than he realised.

Lindsay jumped around and hastily stood up, startled. "I… I was looking for Danny's baseball mitt, the lucky one what he told me to wear today."

"Why is all of this stuff on the floor?"

"I…I was just looking at… at the photos," she explained, her lower lip trembling as she realised she was in trouble.

"You should've asked," he scolded her, though his tone was more controlled.

"I'm sorry; I just… I found the box and was looking at photos of Mommy."

Mac scrubbed a hand down his face; from every photo Claire seemed to be staring up at him with a teasing smile. He looked from Claire's eyes to the face of his child, realising too late that Lindsay was holding back tears. It wasn't that he was actually angry at Lindsay, if he was honest he couldn't fault her curiosity, but these photos had been a private part of him for so long that seeing someone else sharing them had caught him by surprise. For a moment he'd forgotten this was Claire's daughter and only seen an invader into his most private thoughts and feelings.

At his silence, Lindsay's distress seemed to grow. "I'm sorry Daddy," she insisted, her tone rising to an almost wail.

"No, no, Lindsay I'm sorry," he immediately countered, his tone apologetic. "I shouldn't have to you off. You didn't do anything wrong, I was just… shocked, I guess."

She sniffled softly, her gaze fixed on the floor. "I miss my mommy."

"I know you do, I miss her too." He crossed the room to her and although Lindsay didn't flinch or move away, she did grow tense, and he swallowed past the guilt of scaring and upsetting her. He sat down on the bed, knowing that time was trickling past them but suddenly uncaring, and patted the space next to him. Lindsay hesitantly climbed up and when she was settled he bent down to retrieve the photos before shuffling them into a stack.

He showed them to her one by one and Lindsay slowly calmed down. She moved closer to Mac, snuggling into his side so she could see them better and he wrapped his arm around her shoulders. Lindsay pointed out things, asking questions about people and places, years and months. They both seemed to recover from Mac losing him composure as they ended up at the last six photos in the stack, each one showing a growing Lindsay.

In the first she was a new born, wrapped in her mother's arms as Claire looked down at her with such pride. The second was her first birthday, mashed cake in each hand whilst a pony lay forgotten on the tray of her high chair. Her third birthday followed, sat in Claire's lap on a swing, squealing in delight. Mac vividly remembered seeing this photo for the first time; the engagement ring proudly glared from Claire's finger, alerting him to the fact another man was in his ex-wife and daughter's lives. For her fourth birthday, Lindsay was surrounded by other children as they attended her party but she had still been instantly recognisable to her father's eyes with her long curls, doe eyes and sunny smile. The fifth photo had her atop a horse, its glossy mane enhanced by the photo's print and she wore an expression which was amazed, terrified and excited in equal measure. The final photo she'd already seen, for it sat in a frame on his desk at work but she still stared hard at the copy, lightly tracing her fingertips over her mother's face.

Lindsay sniffed again and Mac dropped the photos back into the box before pulling the six year old even closer and pressing a kiss to the top of her head. Her hand was on his chest, her fingers lightly grazing the NYPD emblazoned across his t-shirt and he could feel her slow breaths through the material.

"You ready to go?" Mac asked gently and felt Lindsay nod against his chest. "I believe I saw a baseball mitt downstairs on the island in the kitchen. That'll be Danny's one, won't it?"

"Oh good, I thought I'd lost it after I sweared I'd look after it real good." She slid off of the bed and went out to search for the entrusted baseball mitt.

Mac picked her pink baseball cap up from the floor before following her out of the bedroom and downstairs. Lindsay was pulling on the denim jacket that Stella had recently bought her with the turned up sleeves ("what?" she'd asked innocently. "It's cute, was on sale and I couldn't resist. Besides, if you can discipline my child then I can spoil yours.") before placing the lucky mitt on to her hand with a proud flourish. Mac wondered whether Danny or Lindsay knew what this kind of gift usually symbolised and then shuddered at the thought of a boy, even one he knew well, having a crush on his daughter.

He placed the baseball cap on her head and pulled the ponytail, which he had now mastered thanks to Stella, out through the back. "Ready to go?"

"Uh-huh," she nodded. It was clear that although Lindsay had perked up, she was still shaken from earlier.

"Alright," he said gently. "Let's go."

* * *

"C'mon Danny!"

It was the bottom of the ninth inning and Danny was up to bat for his team. The game had swung drastically between the two teams as they each took the lead and then fell back behind their opponent. They were currently tied and as Danny stepped up to the plate, he knew that he was their only chance. His coach's final instructions to have fun rang in his ears but his whole body trembled with the longing to win.

Danny dug his heels into the dirt and took a deep breath, waiting for the pitch. The first ball was a sloppy throw but he took a chance, swinging his bat through the air. The ball whistled past him and was caught by the catcher.

"STRIKE ONE."

The youngster stepped back and gave his arms a shake to try and rid them of the tension that was creeping in. He took another slow breath before stepping back up to the plate. The ball, faster and more accurate this time came towards Danny and he swung again, his arm curving at the last second. The ball flew towards the left and straight over the thick white line.

"STRIKE TWO."

Danny stepped back again, this time in frustration as he scolded himself for hitting the ball out. He could feel his ears growing hot, suddenly aware of all the people that were watching him and hoping that he did or didn't – depending on what team they supported – strike out.

For the final time he stepped up the plate. The ball came straight towards him again and this time Danny screwed up all his concentration before swinging the bat to greet the ball in mid-air.

CRACK.

The ball soared into the outfield and Danny took off running, leaving the bat behind. The bases were clear as his previous team player had struck out so he ran through each base with ease whilst the fielding team scuttled in every direction in their bid to retrieve his ball. He passed second base, his legs and arms furiously pumping. He could hear people cheering him on but it was all a roar of indistinctive noise as he ran for third, his heart set on fourth.

Seemingly out of nowhere, the ball sailed over his head and into the waiting hands of the third base man who stamped his foot down on the base with such finality that there was no doubt which team had won. The exhilaration that had filled Danny slowly bled out of him as he slowed to a walk and then stopped altogether. The fielding team exploded in victory, the baseball field a sea of cheering team members as Danny slowly headed back to the dugout, kicking at the dirt and dragging his feet. His team members shrugged and awkwardly patted him on the back whilst his coach approached him.

"You did good, Danny. Three seconds earlier and you woulda made it so don't fret."

"Thanks," Danny replied tonelessly.

The coach called to the team that they'd be heading to Al's Diner, a post-game tradition, and to bring their supporting fans. Danny kicked at the ground glumly as Stella, Mac and Lindsay approached. The apprehension on Stella's face caused Danny's gut to tighten even more, making him feel worse. It wasn't that he was a sore loser; he just always wanted to do his very best and that usually included winning.

"You were amazing!" Lindsay exclaimed in awe when they reached him and Danny frowned.

"What're ya talkin' abou'? I lost."

"So? You were still really good. You hit the ball so far away and then you ran really fast and the other team didn't know what to do. And you were really good when you caught that ball earlier. If that boy hadn't thrown the ball at just the right time then you definitely woulda won. You very nearly won."

Danny had never heard anyone sound so enthusiastic about 'very nearly' winning and yet he found himself grinning with her.

"You're crazy."

Lindsay gave a shrug, also grinning. "Rather be crazy than sulky."

Danny smiled sheepishly and scratched the back of his neck. "Yeah, I guess I was sulkin'. Still, I nearly won so it's not so bad." He turned towards Stella as the apprehension on her face filtered away. "Hey Ma, can Lindsay come with us to Al's?"

"I don't know, I suppose you'd better ask her daddy," Stella suggested.

"Mac, can Lindsay come to Al's with us for dinner? You could come too, if you wanted."

"Please, can we," Lindsay added hopefully.

"Hm, did you do all your homework yesterday?" he asked to which Lindsay nodded. "And did you, Danny?"

"Err, most of it?" he answered on a shrug.

"Most of it, huh?"

"I'll finish it all before Monday, promise," Danny hastily added.

"I suppose just this once, but tomorrow it's back to home cooked food, deal?" Mac said to Lindsay.

"Deal."

"Mac must be a better cook than my Ma if you're willing to eat it. Hey, what'd I do?!" Danny asked indignantly, spinning around to face Stella who'd hit him upside the head.

She shook her head at him. "D'you know nothing about respecting your mother?"

"Oh, right. Sorry, Ma."

She pulled off his baseball cap before pulling him into a fierce hug and kissing the top of his head. Usually he would struggle and pull away, complaining about her being mushy over him but this time he accepted the hug and squeezed her back. Even for a kid, he knew that it wasn't easy for her to raise him alone – especially when he was getting in trouble for fighting or for his attitude – and so although he often wouldn't admit it, he really was grateful to her.

He pulled away and gave her a big grin before addressing the group. "A'right, I'm starvin', can we eat yet?"

Stella nudged him in the shoulder, rolling her eyes at his incessant appetite. "C'mon, then."

Danny grabbed Lindsay's arm and pulled her away, the both of them giggling as he told her all of the wonders that was Al's diner and the two adults followed, smiling affectionately at the children and each other.

* * *

Al's diner was a family orientated joint with the typical red vinyl booths, silver countertops, and a jukebox playing hits from the 50s. Their root beer floats were legendary and the waitresses wore characteristic A-line dresses. The baseball team and their supporters were all crammed into the five booths at the back and Al himself served them, treating them all as though they were his most treasured customers and relaying stories of his own Little League baseball team. If anyone looked further into Al's books, they would have found that he was in serious debt and that a local loan shark was hassling him for money, but no one ever did question Al about his money problems because he never let on that there was an issue.

Danny and Lindsay sat on one side of the booth; they're respective parents on the other. They'd all eaten the Al's classic (homemade fries, quarter pounder burger and a milkshake) and were now satisfyingly full. After gaining permission from their parents, Danny and Lindsay slid out of their booth and ran over to the jukebox to choose the next song.

Mac turned to Stella, his one confidant. "Do you think Lindsay is happy?"

Stella frowned before looking over at the youngster. She was stood with Danny giggling at the jukebox. "Of course. Why? Has she given you any inclination that she's not happy?"

"I don't know," he admitted on a sigh. "This morning I told her off and she said that she missed Claire. I'm worried that maybe this has all been too much for her; her mom being murdered, witnessing it and then having to move across the country. I'm worried that maybe she doesn't want to be here."

Stella looked across at the two children and sighed. "I suppose it's possible that she's not as happy as she appears. Maybe it was just a reaction to being told off for being in trouble," she suggested.

Mac looked suddenly guiltily. "She didn't actually do anything wrong," he confessed. "I went into my bedroom and found her looking through the photos I keep in a box beneath the bed-"

Stella raised a sceptical eyebrow. "_You_ keep photos in a box beneath your bed?"

Mac shrugged. "I can be sentimental when I want to be. They're mainly old photos of Claire and the photos she used to send to me of Lindsay on her birthday. I've never shown these photos to anyone before so seeing Lindsay going through them caused me to snap, somehow. She didn't deserve it and I immediately apologised and we went through the photos together but… what if the damage has already been done?"

Stella looked upon him sympathetically. She could see that Mac was struggling to reveal his emotions and felt very exposed at the moment, she could also guess that it was the same feeling he'd had that morning when he'd found Lindsay going through his treasured photographs. She'd never thought of Mac as the type to savour personal tokens in a box and yet she could understand why he did it; he was so painfully private that even he needed some emotional outlet and hiding it away from the rest of the world was his way of coping with that. She could understand why he'd feel invaded if someone had found that secret part of him and yet he needed to learn how to differentiate between a prying stranger and curious daughter.

"I don't believe she meant that she wants to leave, it was probably just that seeing the photos and then being told off made her very homesick and so she wanted her mom. Yelling at her, although probably not pleasant for either of you, was just a mistake – one that you then made up for. You're allowed to make mistakes, Mac. You've been handed this six year old who doesn't know you and who you don't know and yet you're her father and looking after her – which is a lot more than some people out there would have done. You could have turned your back on her, if you'd really wanted to, but you didn't because you're better than that. You're learning, just like how every other parent out there is. I don't do everything right but I learn from the things I did wrong and I don't do it again. If you don't make and learn from mistakes then how do you expect Lindsay to? You're doing fine."

Mac gave Stella a grateful smile. Since having Lindsay in his life, he'd felt as though he was treading water and then today he'd been sucked under, submerged by everything that today had thrown at them but Stella had managed to pull him back up with her perspective. He cast a glance at Lindsay who was laughing with Danny as they played by the jukebox. He turned from his daughter's beaming face to Stella's kind gaze.

"Thanks Stel, I guess sometimes I just need your fine example."

Stella snorted. "Example, yes, fine, I'm not so sure."

"You're a wonderful mother, Stella, don't ever doubt that. Seeing you with Danny has somewhat prepared me for being a father to Lindsay and I know that I couldn't have made it through these past few weeks without you."

Stella ducked her head, grinning shyly at his compliments. They both turned to watch their children as they jigged to the music, completely oblivious to anyone else around them.

"We're raising quite the pair, aren't we?"

"Pair of what, is what I'm concerned about."


	8. Chapter Seven

**Disclaimer: **The characters of CSI: NY do not belong to me however this story is of my own and should only be used after permission has been asked and given. No copyright infringement intended and no profit is being made.

**Summary: **AU. SM, DL. It wasn't always fun to have a trained investigator for a parent. Then again, being a single parent was no easy feat either…

**Notes:** Huge thanks to, _lilymoonlight, MesserFamilyFan100_ and _HellsBellsBella_ for reviewing the last chapter.

* * *

**Life As We Know It**

Stella carefully wiped the kitchen counters down, smiling to herself as she dusted sequins and glitter into her palm. After weeks of begging, she and Mac had finally relented, allowing Danny and Lindsay to have a sleepover on the weekend Stella had off from work. At the request of the children, they had so far made headdresses with the arts and crafts set Stella had bought, using feathers, glitter and sequins before going out to play in the closed courtyard of the apartment complex.

The windows of the fourth floor apartment were thrown open and Stella could hear the two children as they played, occasionally going out to the balcony to ensure they were both happy and safe. Apart from the spat they'd had upon first meeting, Stella had heard of no further problems between the two youngsters and she was pleased. If she were honest, she was glad that Danny and Lindsay had connected so well, figuring that they could both benefit from having a close friend.

The kitchen timer buzzed and Stella hurried to the oven, donning a pair of kitchen gloves before pulling the oven dish out from beneath the grill. She placed the bubbling macaroni and cheese on to the counter to cool before returning to the balcony and calling down that dinner was ready.

"Be up in a minute, Ma," Danny called back before she returned to the kitchen. Stella had finishing dishing out equal portions and was setting the table when the two children walked through the front door, cheeks flushed and talking animatedly to each other. They were still wearing their headdresses though sequins were missing from Lindsay's and a couple of Danny's feathers were bent.

"Go and wash up, then we'll eat," Stella instructed, noticing smudges of dirt on both children.

They raced to the bathroom whilst Stella locked the apartment door and prepared a pitcher of water for the table. Danny and Lindsay returned, climbing into their seats as Stella poured water into three glasses and then settled down to eat with them.

"Linds, Mac- erm, your daddy," Stella corrected, the words foreign even after a month. "Called whilst you were playing; he said be good, he hoped you were having a good time, sleep well and he'll see you tomorrow."

"Will he call again?" Lindsay asked, stabbing a piece of macaroni and placing it into her mouth.

"I don't think so, sweetheart," Stella replied apologetically. "He sounded quite busy."

The truth was they'd been rushed at the lab recently with links forming between a cold case and the murder of a student the previous week. Although they were convinced their only suspect was guilty, they couldn't prove anything other than circumstantial evidence and so whilst the Chief of Police was pushing for an arrest, the DA was refusing to convict until they had more solid evidence. The team had been strained and Mac in particular had been stressed, having been confronted by their victim's parents who accused him of giving up. Stella had offered to give up her weekend off but Mac had insisted, claiming he wanted her and the two children to have as normal a weekend as possible.

"Oh, ok. I'll have to show Daddy my headband tomorrow then so he'll know just how much fun I was having."

"I'm sure he'll like that," Stella replied on a smile. "You both sounded like you were having a lot of fun out there."

"We were," Danny answered, pausing to swallow his mouthful. "We were playing Indians. Like the ones who live near Lindsay's home in Montana. And we ride horses and live in a tent and have a pet eagle and talk to spirits and climb rocks and stuff. And we even got special names that are about outside and that kinda thing."

Stella smiled at his explanation; as he'd grown older, Danny had become self-conscious about explaining his make believe games with her and so she was glad she could share in this with him. His excitement was infectious and she found herself intrigued that her born and bred city kid could be enjoying a game set in the mid-West that didn't have even the hint of a baseball in it.

"So what are these special names, then?" she inquired.

"I'm Forest Wolf and Lindsay is Pale Feather 'cause that's what she gets called back in Montana by peoples."

"Who called you Pale Feather, Lindsay?" Stella asked, interested in the name.

"Ayita called me Pale Feather. She said it was because if the wind blew I'd be caught up in it, running to wherever it took me. Then I'd play with Paytah and he'd call me Pale Feather as well and then when I told my brothers they called me it too! So then nearly _everyone_ called me Pale Feather."

Stella chuckled at her childlike exaggeration. "And who is Ayita and Paytah?" she asked, pronouncing each name carefully.

"They're my friends. Ayita's a lady who cleaned the ranch a lot and she would look after me when Mommy was working late and Sean was away and she'd bring Paytah too because she was his mommy and we'd play… only, he was sick one day so Mommy took me to the diner with her…" as Lindsay trailed off, Stella knew what night it was that Ayita had been unable to look after her.

"Oh! And I forgot the best part!" Danny continued, oblivious to the momentary sadness that had passed over Lindsay and his mother. "We work together to protect the silver bullet."

Stella frowned, suddenly concerned that Danny had somehow managed to find a way into her gun safe. "What's the silver bullet?" she asked casually.

"It's the train," Lindsay supplied, recovering quickly as she drew strength from Danny. "We gotta make sure the bandits don't steal from it by doing this-" and she broke off, placing a hand over her mouth and whooping, the noise reverberating against her moving hand. Danny grinned before joining in and Stella laughed as she watched her two Native Americans jig in their seats happily. She raised a hand to quieten them down before they descended into real chaos and the two children wore matching grins as they continued dinner, eating with fervour and occasionally commenting about what it would be like to really live in the wild.

* * *

It was much later that evening when Danny and Lindsay had been put to bed and Stella herself was turning in for the night that Danny burst into her bedroom, looking frantic. She'd been in the process of brushing her hair at the time when she saw him through the reflection of the vanity mirror; his face was a mask of worry and his eyes were red rimmed as he squinted at her without his glasses. Stella swivelled around to face him as he ran to her, his hair stuck up at odd angles.

"Ma, quick you've gotta come!"

"Danny, what is it? What's wrong?"

"She won't stop crying and I think she's hurt," he told her hurriedly, looking terrified. Danny grabbed at her hand and pulled his mother to standing before she followed him to his bedroom down the hall. The door was already thrown open and Stella snapped a light on, upon entering.

Lindsay, who was sleeping on a camp bed low to the floor, was moaning in her sleep and thrashing about, tears running down her cheeks. Stella's heart went out to the poor girl as she recognised that Lindsay was caught up in some sort of nightmare – undoubtedly about the night Claire died.

"Danny, get back into bed, ok? You don't have to go to sleep if you don't want to but I want you to get back into bed for me. Do as I say," she instructed gently. The six year old did as he was told, his eyes transfixed on Lindsay and his mother as Stella knelt beside the still thrashing girl and tried to coax her awake. "Lindsay? Lindsay, sweetheart, it's Stella. You have to wake up now. C'mon darling, wake up please."

After more gently coaxing during which Stella stroked Lindsay's cheek, there was a shift in Lindsay as she transitioned from sleeping to waking up. The tears stopped and the thrashing lessened before Lindsay's eyes flew open and she shot upwards into a sitting position. Stella pulled Lindsay into her arms as the terrified girl trembled, breathing heavily and looking around wildly. Tears filled her eyes once more as she looked between Danny's terrified face and Stella's consoling one.

"It's alright Lindsay, you're safe now, nothing's going to hurt you," Stella reassured her. She rubbed a soothing hand up and down her back in strong motions, feeling Lindsay slowly relax.

"I saw him again, he was here in New York and had a gun pointed at Daddy," Lindsay told her, her low lip trembling as a tear rolled down her cheek.

"Ssh, it's ok. He's not here, he's far away and he's not going to hurt you or Daddy. You're safe; we won't let anyone hurt you."

Exhaustion hit Lindsay and her eyes slammed shut before blinking slowly open again. Stella laid her back down in the camp bed and tucked the little girl in, stroking her forehead until her breathing began to even out and she teetered on sleep. Stella stood back up, her knees cracking and turned to face Danny who looked concerned but less frightened.

"If she has a bad dream again, you come and get me straight away, ok?" Stella asked and Danny nodded, suddenly looking determined and as though he was Lindsay's protector. Stella settled her son back into bed and kissed his forehead before retreating from the room, leaving the door partially open so she could hear if anything was amiss again. Danny waited until his mother had left before climbing out of the bed and crawling in next to Lindsay.

Lindsay rolled over so they lay facing each other. Danny took her hand firmly within his own. "It's ok Lindsay, I'll look after you. You don't gotta be scared, no more."

"You're my best friend, Danny Messer."

Danny grinned. "You're my best friend too. No go to sleep and I'll make sure you're safe."

Lindsay shut her eyes obediently and Danny gave her hand a final squeeze before also falling asleep.

* * *

"Hey, Kiddo!"

Mac opened his arms as Lindsay ran into him, lifting her up as she squealed in delight and settling her on his hip. She was perhaps too old to be carried in this way but Mac had six years to make up for and being close to her was one thing he'd never grow tired of. "Did you have a good time?"

Lindsay nodded enthusiastically. "We had mac'roni and cheese for dinner and we made Indian headbands and me and Danny played lots. We also watched a film before bed and it was really good."

"Really? What film was it?" Mac asked, matching her enthusiasm.

Lindsay thought for a moment, tapping her chin before shrugging and laughing. "I don't remember!"

"You never remember!" he accused light heartedly, poking her in the sibs so she squealed before setting her back on her feet again.

Stella, who had stood by and watched the exchange, gave them both a smile. "Hey Lindsay, why don't you go and get your stuff together so you'll be ready to leave?"

"Okay!" the six year old raced off, back in the direction of Danny's bedroom and the two adults smiled, watching her go.

"She really is a ball of energy and enthusiasm," Stella commented with a smile. She turned to Mac, her expression turning serious. "She had a nightmare last night, quite a bad one I think. Gave Danny a right old scare, he came running into my room to get me and I managed to wake her up and calm her down."

Mac sighed. "I'm sorry Stel, I thought she'd be alright. How was Danny? Was he freaked out?"

"Hey, hey, you don't need to apologise," Stella reassured him. "Danny and I were fine, just concerned. She dreamt that Claire's killer was in New York and that he was going to kill you – it really scared her. I know you don't want to send her to a psychologist but perhaps you should think about talking to her yourself. Just let her know that she can come to you, it might help."

"Did she only have the one nightmare?" Mac asked.

"Yeah, she was fine after she woke up the first time – though I think my son might have something to do with that. I walked in this morning to find them both crammed on the camp bed holding hands whilst they slept. It was quite sweet, really."

Mac gave her a crooked smile, the image a warming one. Lindsay returned then, breathless and dragging a backpack behind her. Mac took the backpack from her and slung it over his own shoulder. "Ready to go?"

"Uh-huh, you bet."

"What d'you say to Stella?" he gently prompted.

Lindsay threw her arms around Stella's waist, resting her chin against her stomach as she looked up into the adult's face. "Thank you for having me, Stella. It was the bestest sleepover, ever!"

Stella smiled down at the small girl. "Well then you are most certainly welcome and we'll always be happy to have you here."

The father and daughter duo said their goodbyes before leaving the apartment. Stella could hear Lindsay's excited chatter as they made their way towards the elevators whilst she shut and locked the front door. She turned back into the apartment, calling for Danny as she did so.

"Come out here for a minute, please!"

Danny obligingly came from his room, decked out in swimming goggles, a baseball cap, apron and carrying a toy gun. What Stella had wanted to say left her for a moment as she stared at him in his absurd costume. "What… what are you wearing?"

Danny shrugged. "Me and Lindsay were pretending to play laser tag before she had to leave. What's up?"

"C'mere," she held out an arm and led him over to the sofa what they both sat down on. She waited until they were both comfortable. Danny was staring up at her in open confusion and she was finding it difficult to ignore his choice of clothing. "I wanted to talk to you about last night."

"Why? Did I do something wrong?"

"What? No, no, of course not," she was quick to reassure him. "I wanted to talk to you about Lindsay-"

"Oh no, don't blame Lindsay, it wasn't her fault. I shouldn't'a gotten you. Blame me, not her!"

His quick jump to Lindsay's defence made Stella inwardly smile. "It's not that either. I'm glad you came and got me, it was the right thing to do and if anything like that ever happens again then I'd expect you to do the same. I wanted to tell you why Lindsay was so scared last night and why she was having nightmares," Stella paused. Danny's expression was full of curiosity now and for a moment she was struck with the thought of how his life would be if he were suddenly motherless. "I know that you know Lindsay's mommy died, but you don't know how she died. You know how we sometimes go to Al's Diner after baseball? Well Lindsay's mommy worked in a diner like that and she was working late one night whilst Lindsay was sat in a booth, colouring-"

"She sure does like to colour," Danny interrupted briefly, still unaware of how painful this conversation was for his mother.

"I know she does," Stella agreed, giving him a watery smile. "When Lindsay's mommy went to lock the front door, a man ran in with a shot gun. Lindsay hid under the table and she watched whilst the man stole the money out of the cash register and then shot her mommy. That's how she died and… and that's why Lindsay gets so scared at night. Sometimes when she's asleep, she dreams that the man's going to come back and do it again." All of the expression had left Danny's face as he stared up at his mother. "D'you get why I'm telling you this? It's not to scare or to worry you but to let you know why Lindsay sometimes gets so scared."

"Is the same thing gonna happen to you?" Danny asked in a quiet voice.

Stella pulled him close. "No, darling, of course it's not. I'm here and I'm safe, ok?"

"I don't want you to die," Danny admitted, his voice still quiet and monotonous.

"I know you don't, but I'm not going to. You believe me, don't you?" She pulled back to look into his grave face and he gave her a small nod, biting his bottom lip. She leant forward and pressed a kiss to his forehead. "I promise nothing will happen to me. I just wanted you to know why Lindsay was so scared last night, just to make sure you weren't worried about it."

"I'll protect both of you from the bad man," he promised, his arms tight around his mother.

Stella rubbed a hand down his back. "Well then me and Lindsay will be very lucky to have such a big, brave boy to look after us. I want you to promise me that you won't worry anymore about me dying, ok? I'm safe as can be, besides," she leaned in close to him, murmuring conspiratorially. "I know how to shoot a gun, so no one's gonna mess with me."

Danny grinned and pulled back. "Will you let me shoot your gun?"

"Hmm, let me think… no, definitely not."

"Awww, _Ma!_"


	9. Chapter Eight

**Disclaimer: **The characters of CSI: NY do not belong to me however this story is of my own and should only be used after permission has been asked and given. No copyright infringement intended and no profit is being made.

**Summary: **AU. SM, DL. It wasn't always fun to have a trained investigator for a parent. Then again, being a single parent was no easy feat either…

**Notes:** This chapter's a little different because it's a reworking of **'Like Water for Murder'** from Season 4 with the introduction of a minor character from the episode. I liked a lot of the interactions between characters in this episode so I've used and developed some of the original script of the episode but it was just a one off because I'm loathed to start completely ripping off the script of the show.

As ever thank you, _CsiNY326, hope for eternity, Mere-Brennan _and _lily moonlight_ for reviewing the last chapter.

* * *

**Life As We Know It**

"Mac Taylor, it's good to see you again."

"Quinn, welcome to the New York Crime Lab." He took the proffered hand and shook it before turning from the red hear to Stella who had been checking in with him when the New Jersey criminalist had politely interrupted. "Stella, this is Inspector Quinn Shelby from the New Jersey crime lab. She'll be reviewing our lab for the forensic board's re-accreditation. Quinn, this is my assistant Stella Bonasera."

Stella smiled politely at the Inspector as they also shook hands. The whole lab had received the memo last week about the re-accreditation so she knew what to expect with these polite formalities.

"It's nice to finally meet you, Stella; we've heard many things about you over at the New Jersey lab."

Stella's smile tightened; although the words could have been made as a compliment, part of Stella bristled at the hidden taunt behind Quinn's smile.

"What exactly is it that you'll be reviewing here, Inspector Quinn?" Stella asked, her manner professionally cool.

"I'll be monitoring protocol and evaluating the team's techniques over the next few days before filing a report. I'll quietly observe and be staying out of your way for the most part." Mac snickered and both turned to him. Confusion passed across Stella's face whilst Quinn gave him her own smile. "What's so funny?"

"I've never known you to do anything quietly, Quinn. And as for staying out of the way? It's not your style."

Quinn grinned. "Lead the way and we'll see."

Mac and Quinn took down the halls together towards the AV lab where Adam had been instructed to be on his best behaviour, leaving a baffled Stella behind. She tapped the file she'd been holding in her hand against her palm before walking in the opposite direction and hoping that she was fortunate enough to not cross paths with the redhead again.

* * *

"So what's going on in this picture, Lindsay?"

Lindsay paused in her colouring of the sky to explain to her teacher, Ms. Carter, her 'What I Did Last Weekend…' drawing. She pointed out each of the main points, explaining them in detail. "This is me, and this is Daddy and this is my friends Danny and Stella. Stella's Danny mommy and works with my Daddy. They're cops, fighting bad guys so they've got big badges pinned on them. And this is the movie theatre that we went to and we watched _Meet the Robinson's_ and it was funny and we laughed. Danny said he liked the bit where Gooper caught the baseball and I said I liked the bit where Ca'nda was called Big Montana – because that's where I'm from! And this here is the path that we walked home and this is the sky and we're all smiling and happy."

"That sounds like a really good weekend," Ms. Carter commented enthusiastically.

Lindsay shrugged and nodded. "It was, but it's usually fun when me and Danny and Daddy and Stella are all together."

"Ms. Carter, can you look at my picture next?" Tilly asked from across the table. Ms. Carter moved away so that she could inspect Tilly's 'What I Did Last Weekend…' drawing and Lindsay continued to colour in the sky, humming to herself contently. She labelled each of the figures in her childlike scrawl and drew large red smiles on each of their faces, smiling in accomplishment when she was finished.

* * *

Quinn hovered in the lab, taking notes for the inspection and peering over shoulders as the lab techs and Detective's worked. For the past ten minutes she'd been watching Stella at the microscope, trying to get a clear angle so she could see what the assistant supervisor was working on.

Stella sat back in her seat, stretching out the muscles in her back which were beginning to ache from being hunched over for so long. The continual scratching of pen on paper was setting her teeth on edge, making her irritable and snappy. She released a sigh before turning towards Quinn. "Wanna take a look at the vic's stomach contents?"

Quinn chewed the inside of her lip, resisting a smile. She, like those around her, was an investigator at heart and the thought of participating in the case gave her a definite pull of longing. "Most people don't usually invite me to participate in the process."

"Most people are intimidated by your job," Stella commented, dryly. "I thought you might want to see what I was looking at."

She pushed her chair away from the desk and Quinn stood in her place, stooping down to look through the microscope. She examined the contents before pulling away and looking over Stella's notes of what she had analysed and concluded, nodding in agreement before pressing her eyes to the microscope lens once again. "This Mac's idea of a curveball?"

Stella pursed her lips before releasing a breath. "No. Like I said, I thought you'd like to see what I was looking at."

Quinn pulled away from the microscope and turned to Stella, resting her hip against the desk. "I get it, I'm the annoying woman sent into your territory to judge whether you're doing your job correctly."

"No, that part I'm fine with," Stella replied. "I understand that all lab's need to be reviewed, especially when they're handling something as highly sensitive as evidence that can put a murderer away. I just don't agree with people making their jobs personal." At Quinn's raised eyebrow, she continued – aware that she was dangerously close to crossing a line. "It's clear you know Mac."

Quinn nodded. "From a long time ago. Actually, we both applied for the job he has now." She pushed away from the desk, gathering her clipboard and giving Stella a small nod. "It was good talking to you, Detective Bonasera."

With the effective closure of the conversation, Stella returned to the analysis of her victim's stomach contents – releasing an audible sigh of relief once Quinn was out of the lab.

* * *

It was mid-afternoon when Mac and Quinn's paths crossed again. She was stood in his office, making notes on her clipboard when he walked in with a bemused expression.

"Evaluating my office now?" he asked upon entering.

She looked up and gave him a smirk. "No, although I suppose the décor could come into effect – the glass walls are a nice touch."

He gave a shrug. "I didn't design the building."

A smile ghosted across her lips as Mac sat down at his desk and began shuffling papers, organising them into piles. She perched on the edge of his desk, clipboard held close to her chest.

"I thought that seeing as I was in town you might treat me to dinner," she said boldly.

Mac sat back in his chair, a smirk crossing his face – it was never a question of if Quinn would make a pass as opposed to when. "What makes you think I'll take you out to dinner?"

"You saying you don't want to?"

He shook his head, still smiling. "You were always good at that – flirting."

"I'm good at many things," she intoned sultrily.

"Quinn…"

"Why'd you never call?" Suddenly she wasn't the bold and confident woman he knew, but someone who had been burnt – perhaps too many times, and perhaps too many times by him. She gave a sigh, softening. "You know I've thought about this moment so many times – about what I would say to you when I finally got the chance and here I am and… all I keep thinking is 'does he ever wonder what if?' and I know it's… pathetic, really." She bit her lip, looking at him in a way he hadn't been looked at in a long time. "You chose Claire and then even after she left you never came to me so I suppose that that should really answer my question but… is it so wrong of me to wonder how you feel?"

"I never meant to hurt you, Quinn, what happened – it was a mistake."

"Then it was, but what about now?"

Before he had a chance to answer, the door to his office opened and in stepped the nervy lab tech she'd come across earlier in the AV lab. He gave them an apologetic grimace.

"Hey Mac, sorry, uh, to interrupt; just thought you should know that Lindsay and Danny are in the break room now. Ms. Carter said that Lindsay scraped her knee during recess but it wasn't too erm, too bad and well she's ok now."

Mac stood from his desk as Adam left, letting the door close behind him. He turned to Quinn, his tone firm, "some mistakes are better left in the past."

The head of the crime lab walked past her and out of his office, striding with purpose towards the break room. He gave pause in the doorway, watching as Danny rapidly explained what had happened in the playground whilst Hawkes tended to Lindsay's knee, spraying it so that it wouldn't get infected and placing a band aid over the scrape. She swung her legs a few times, satisfied that the cut would soon heal before looking up and grinning at her father.

"Hi Daddy, look, I got an ouchie," she said, holding her leg out for him to see.

"So I see, how did that happen?"

She gave a shrug. "Tripped in the playground."

"She didn't cry or nothin'," Danny inputted in awe. "You'd better kiss it better though, just to make sure it heals nice and good – that's what Ma says."

Mac obliged, stooping down to press a feather light kiss to Lindsay's knee and she giggled at the contact. He remembered a time when Claire would kiss his wounds, her innocence spilling forth in that moment and he found it captured once again in his daughter.

"Go and get changed out of your school uniforms and then straight back here to do homework," Mac instructed. Lindsay jumped down from the seat she'd been perched in and the two children headed towards the locker room, carrying their backpacks that had their schoolwork and change of clothing within. He ducked his head out of the break room and called after them, "walk, don't run."

He caught Stella's eye as she worked in the opposite lab and they shared a grin before he walked towards her, intent on checking on her progress. He could feel eyes on him and he looked up as he passed Quinn, her expression disconcertingly unreadable as she jotted notes down on her clipboard.

* * *

"I'm done with my evaluation, you'll be receiving a full report by the end of this week," Quinn announced as she caught up with Mac in the hall.

He spun around to face her, his expression quizzical. "You're done already? I thought these things usually lasted at least a week."

"I've seen all that I needed to see," she responded, her tone cool.

"Is there some sort of problem, Quinn?" he asked sharply.

"I'm not entirely sure the board would be happy if they heard you were running a day care around here. You're one of the top labs in the country; you handle sensitive evidence – evidence that could potentially put a murderer away-"

"I'm aware of what my lab handles," he cut over her.

"Then you should also be aware that if a defence attorney was to find out that children had free reign of the lab, or suspected for one instance that the lab wasn't fully focused because it was too busy babysitting, then maybe that knowledge could be used against you in court. And that's not even taking into consideration the health and safety risks. We can all try to compartmentalise but nobody can help the fact that sometimes life gets in the way and when things get messy, mistakes are made. And I believe I'm quoting you on that one."

They stood in silence, staring at each other. It became obvious to him that whilst she may not have known the full story, Quinn had been made aware that Lindsay was his daughter and Danny was Stella's son – he wryly mused that the lab gossip mill was turning as ever. Would it go into overload if it was to learn of the messy past that accompanied him and Quinn?

The red head turned on her heel, leaving Mac stood in the hall to contemplate her words. Through the glass walls he could see Lindsay and Danny as they sat in the break room, engrossed in their set homework. They'd had Danny in the lab for over a year now without even the hint of trouble but Quinn's words did make some form of sense – especially when she used his own words against him. He'd missed out on so much of Lindsay's life already and worked such a hectic schedule that seeing her after school in the lab each day seemed to make up for everything he missed – but could he let the lab's reputation wither, or worse, potentially let a murderer or rapist go free simply to settle his own selfish needs?


End file.
